Finding You Again
by Swimmydolphin28
Summary: Dylan, Aidan, and A.C. are the grandchildren of Percy, Annabeth, Jason, and Piper, but sadly percabeth and jasper are dead. So when their children die in a car accident, Dylan, Aidan, and A.C. are split up across the country. Will they find each other again? More importantly, can they do it without getting killed by monsters first?
1. Prologue

Prologue

After the giant war, Percy and Annabeth got married and had a son, who they named Luke Nereus Jackson. He grew up to become an advanced algebra teacher who coaches the school swim team. He fell in love with Jason and Piper's daughter, Amia Celestia Grace. Because she had grown up in Hollywood, since Piper became a model, Amia was a famous singer. Together, Luke and Amia had one girl and two sons. Dylan Cato Jackson was their oldest son by two years. Aidan Conor and Aria Ceto Jackson were their twins. All of the children were blessed by all of the gods because not only are they half bloods, but they each have 1/8 Athena, 1/8 Aphrodite, 1/8 Poseidon, and 1/8 Zeus. That means that they have 1/8 of two out of three of the big three gods. This story starts off when Dylan is just turned six and the twins birthday is in a week. Amia and Luke tried their best to spend time with their children, but Amia traveled often on tours and other things and Luke worked from 5:30 am - 5:30pm every day. But when they promised all three of their children that they would come to the opening night of the school play, the children believed them.

"They missed it!" sobbed Aria Ceto, known to most as A.C., as her twin and older brothers tried to both comfort her and themselves.

"Come on, Ace, cheer up, it's not like they haven't done this before" Dylan said sadly using the nickname that he, Aidan, and their parents called her.

"I know, I just really thought they'd be here this time." She sobbed. They were upset because her parents had missed their school production of "A Day as a Butterfly."

A.C. was cast as one of the butterflies, Aidan was a helpful flower, and Dylan was a wise tree. Their parents promised that they'd be there, and they weren't.

"Would A.C., Aidan, and Dylan Jackson please report to the principal's office." The vice principal, Mr. McCrary's, voice rang over the loud speaker in the theater.

"I hope it's mommy and daddy." A.C. said with a huff

When they reached the office Dylan was the first to notice something odd.

"Why does everyone looks so sad?" Dylan asked.

"Children there was a car accident your parents they were badly injured. They are now in the hospital. There is a taxi coming to get you to take you to them." Mr. McCrary said. A.C. was sobbing again in a matter of seconds.

By the time they got to the hospital, their father was dead and their mother was barely breathing.

"My sweet children," their mother cooed when she saw them. "be brave, never give up on each other, and never forget your father and I love you." Those were the last words the children ever heard their mom say.

A few days later after the funeral, the children were told that Michael, Dylan's best friend and the son of their mom's best friend, and his family could take in Dylan, but not the twins. Aidan was to be taken to an all boys orphanage in New York City, while A.C. would be put into the foster care system in Louisiana.

Dylan stayed in California in his own home with Michael's 16 and 18 year old brothers living with him and Michael and his parents across the street. He refused to let anyone touch any of his brother or sister's things and stopped trusting most people.

Aidan listened to his mother's lullaby, one of the many songs that she never got to produce, on repeat every night. As he got older, Aidan got very angry very easily, so he became very athletic.

A.C., remembering all the songs she sang with her mom, stopped speaking. She was labeled a mute child, even though she could talk and just refused. She, like Aidan, needed a way to blow off steam, so she started swimming competitively. She swam because that was the only time that she felt close to her family again.

Before they split the siblings got each other trinkets to remember each other by so that they didn't give up hope in finding each other. They got each other lockets. Dylan and Aidan's were on long chains and the sliver rectangles resembled tags you get in the army. A.C. was on a shorter, fancier chain and was a small oval with a dolphin design on the front. Each locket held two pictures; the two siblings that each were missing.

Author's note

Thank you to everyone who read this. This is my first fanfic so if you guys could go easy on the flames that would be great. Anyway I am going to update whenever I can, but it will most likely be every Saturday.

Kk butterflies and happy rainbows to all

-Swimmydolphin28


	2. Chapter 1

Author's note Hey Hey my peps! Thanks so much for reading my first fanfic! Feel free to comment, favorite, and do whatever else you want to. All I ask is that is you hate it please don't bash me too much, but I do understand that if you think that it is total shit that you may want to tell me. I'm cool with it.

Chapter one (8 years after the accident)

A.C. POV

I hate my life. I really fricken hate it. Ever since my parents died I have been way to depressed to sing, much less talk. So I don't. About a month after moving to Louisiana and getting placed in shitty foster homes, gone was the happy bubbly, emotional little 3 year old who was a butterfly in her school play. I stopped talking because my voice sounded to much like my mother's. I still haven't talked yet, but sometimes I listen to my mom's songs that still come on the radio. It reminds me that I still have two brothers out there waiting for me.

About a week after the accident I turned four. It was the first of many birthdays that I spend alone eating a cupcake because my foster parents forgot about me. It has been eight years since I was in that crappy school play, eight years since I saw my sweet home of California, and eight years since I last saw my brothers.

December twenty eighth, Aidan's and my birthday, is two weeks away. We will be thirteen. Meaning that December twenty first, Dylan's fourteenth birthday, is a week away and December twenty second, the day my parents died, is eight days away. On that day I will add an other red streak in my hair. It is a tradition I do. Every time another year passes without my brothers, I put in another streak. When I see them again, I will take it out, returning it to honey brown. After this year, I will have nine streaks.

Two years ago, when I was ten, a wealthy family adopted me because the wife is unable to produce children and, because I stopped speaking, I was labeled a mute child, so they felt bad for me. They are nice and all, but they aren't my family. They keep trying to get me to talk, since when they adopted me they were told I went mute because of a "traumatic experience" and that I choose not to talk.

God I despise my crappy life.

Time skip

I am officially thirteen. I have nine streaks in my hair. I still don't talk. I still live with a family who doesn't accept me. But I got the best birthday present I could have gotten. We are moving. Back to Hollywood. Where Dylan and Michael live. I am going to find my family. I'm going home, and who knows, maybe I'll remove the streaks. Maybe I'll start talking and singing again. Maybe I'll be happy again. Maybe I'll do it all.

Yay! Chapter one is done! Chapter two is coming soon. See ya later my peeps! Butterflies and happy rainbows!

-Swimmydolphin28


	3. Chapter 2

Aidan's POV

(eight years after the accident)

I swear I am going to kill someone one of these days. The mean-ass guys who go to my school make me so mad. I go to an all boys boarding school in NYC and I hate it. I miss Dylan, my older brother, and A.C., my twin sister. I haven't seen them in what will be nine years in about two weeks.

When my parents died I was shipped off to this hell-hole of a place. Dylan got to stay in Hollywood with some family friends who had a son about Dylan's age. They had wanted to take in all three of us in, but with their other five children, they had room for one. They didn't want to purposely split me and my twin up, even though it happened anyway, so they chose Dylan.

I still have a recording of the lullaby my mom used to sing to me when I couldn't sleep. I listen to it all the time. It is extremely special to me because she never produced it, so it wasn't like I could use google to find it. I was the only person who could listen to it. My siblings got different things to remember my parents by, I think. I pretty sure Dylan still has some sheet music from a few unfinished songs. I know for a fact that Ace, which is what my family and I used to call A.C., has a few pictures and one of my dad's swimming trophies.

When I first came to New York, I was put into an all boys orphanage and went to the elementary school a few blocks away. When I got to middle school, and got angrier, the orphanage decided that I needed to go across the city to an all boys boarding school that takes in boys without families. Now I am in seventh grade and I don't like here at all. I still just want to move back to California and be with Dylan, and one day hopefully Ace, too.

Even though I am always sad, upset, and most times angry, I am somehow one the most popular guys in the school. I play football,I run cross country and track and field, and I am the captain of the fencing and swimming teams. I guess I just made the people here respect me. My only friends are my roommates, nobody one and nobody two. When I got here the admissions people saw my history of anger management problems and decided to let me room alone. I don't hang out with the popular crowd very much, even though the entire school knows and respects me for helping them win sports completions. Luckily for the popular crowd, they know not to bother me or I will beat the crap out of them.

Most of the people here like me for non-sporting purposes, too. Apparently ever since I got here there has been a dramatic decrease in bullying. At the boys home, I was one of the youngest and weakest, before I started working out that is. That means that I was the older boys bullying target. So I have a major problem with bullies. When I got here, I had started working out two years before, but I didn't have noticeable muscles yet. Making me, yet again, a target for bullying. So I dealt with them. First I used words and just told them off, but then they tried to punch me, so I caught the punches then beat them up. Let's just say there is no bullying in this school now.

My birthday is also in about two weeks, the twenty-eighth of December. It is also Ace's birthday. Dylan's is in one week, on the twenty-first of December. My parents died the day after Dylan's birthday, so I was glad that it was Christmas break when everyone is gone. That way no one sees me listening to my mother's songs crying all day.

I have always felt guilty about my parents death. I mean, if me, Dylan, and Ace hadn't decided to do that play, my parents wouldn't have been speeding trying to get there and they wouldn't have gotten in the accident. Then I remember seeing my mother speak her last words. It took everything I had to hold it together for Ace, but after about five minutes, I was on the floor sobbing with her. Mom and I had been really close.

Because Ace was there only little girl, she had always been daddy's little angel and mommy's little star, but of the three children, I was really close with my mom. My dad fawned over Ace with her ability to swim and hum at the same time and the voice of a mini angel, thinking she could do no wrong. My mom had always been really close to Dylan because he was her first child, but me, I had been a mommy's tough little guy. If she was tired or stressed, I could always make her laugh. I would walk around the house like the coolest thing in the world. She loved it.

The day of their funeral, the day before I left California, my siblings and I got lockets with the siblings we'd be leaving's pictures in it. The only time I take it off is for sports practices and when I shower. At practices I keep it in an inside pocket of my bag that has a lock on it and when I shower in the dorms I take it in the bathroom with me and lock the door. It is my most prized possession.

Time Skip

Well I finally pulled the last straw a few days ago. The day of my parents death, I was so upset that I went to the school trophies case and broke every trophy that I'd ever won. Apparently breaking school property is vandalism and since I have gotten into quite a few fights in this past year and a half, I have been expelled. They said I have until the end of Christmas break to vacate school property.

What they don't know is that being expelled from this school has lead to the best thing that has happened to me in the past nine years. They are sending me back to Hollywood to the middle school my parents were planning to send me to. I am willing to bet that, even if Ace hasn't found her way back to California yet, Dylan hasn't even left our house. Some family is better than no family in my opinion and if I can go out into my old back yard and toss a football with my big brother again, then I'll be one happy orphan.

Author's note

Okey dokey peoples there is chapter two! I made it a bit longer because of a request by MeganAnnabethJackson so I hope everyone likes it.

Butterflies and happy rainbows to all!

-Swimmydolphin28


	4. Chapter 3

Dylan's POV

Eight years after the accident

Bored. That is all I ever am. Bored. For six years there was always constant noise and activity in my house. Now all there is silence and solitude. After my siblings were taken from me and Michael's family adopted me, my house was lawfully mine and my siblings', but because we were minors, until I am eighteen, Michael's family owns it.

At first Michael's two older brothers, Charlie, who was 16 at the time, and James, who had been eighteen at the time, lived in the house with me. After three years both of them moved out to go to collage, it was the summer between second and third grade and I was eight. I was still to young to be in a house alone, even if the rest of the family was just across the street. Luckily for me, Michael had one more older brother, Lane, who was fifteen at the time. He was there until two years ago when I was twelve. Then Michael's parents decided that I was mature enough to be alone for the few hours a day that I wasn't at school.

When people were living with me I had two rules; don't bother me and don't go into Aidan, Ace, or my parents's rooms. Since my mom and grandma had both been famous, we had a huge house, so we didn't need to use one of the bedrooms to make room for anyone else when James, Charlie, and Lane were in the house with me, so the two rules were easily followed.

I wasn't ever very popular because that prime time where you become popular is from about fourth grade through seventh grade and trust me, I was never exactly social after the accident. Everyone I had trusted, besides Michael, my parents, my grandparents, and my siblings, were either dead or gone. The only person left for me to trust is Michael,and his parents, and they are the only people I trust.

I was labeled a nerd pretty early on in life since my Grandma Annabeth taught me to read right before she died when I was about three. She also taught me a bit of math and science, but the best thing she ever taught me was Greek mythology. She would tell me about the all Greek gods and goddess, major and minor, and about all of the heroes. My favorite story was always the story of Jason for two reasons; firstly because it was my grandpa's name and secondly because when he lost his family at a young age, he found his way home when he was older. Ironic I guess. I hope my siblings find their way home just like Jason did.

My birthday is in a week. The day my parents died is the day after that. Six days after that is Aidan and Ace's birthday. Those facts have always put a damper on my birthday. I like to visit their grave on the day they died every year and put fresh flowers out. The last couple years I have also brought a small battery powered keyboard with me. When I finally could say the word "parents" or look at a picture of them without crying, I went into my mom's music room just to feel close to her again.

When I went in there the first thing I noticed was the piano sheet music for a few songs that my mom had just finished and was about to produce right before her death. Before she had died I had been learning piano with her. My siblings and I had always wanted to form a band together, so we'd started to learn instruments together. My dad had just started to teach Aidan to play the drums and the guitarist from my mom's band was teaching Ace acoustic guitar and a bit of bass. Michael and his younger brother, Ryan, who is about a month older than the twins, were both learning violin, cello, and a bit of acoustic guitar since their mom played string instruments in Mom's band. They were going to play with us. For three three year olds and two five year olds we didn't suck to badly.

Our parents would always joke that we could read sheet music before we could read words. So I read my mom's sheet music. Then I started teaching my self the songs. There were about ten of them. I made the tradition of learning and perfecting one of the songs each year and them playing it at my parents grave. I often wonder if my siblings still play their instruments. Michael stills plays violin and cello, but Ryan never liked the classical instruments, so he stuck with guitar and he plays both acoustic and electric guitars now. Sometimes we play together. I have an ok voice, so when it is just us three I do the singing, but Ace was always going to be our singer. She had the prettiest voice a three year old could have had.

I miss them both so much. I can't believe it is already Christmas break of my freshman year of high school. I turn fifteen on my birthday and the twins will be turning thirteen on theirs'. I wonder what they look like, what they do, if they still have their lockets, and pretty much everything about them. I wish we'd been able to keep in contact with each other. It really makes me want to go and yell at some random social workers. I just got a horrible thought. What if either of them got adopted and their adoptive parents don't let them ever come back here? I want to be there for at least some of their childhoods. Damn it.

TIME SKIP

My birthday has passed. The day my parents died has passed. The twins birthday has passed. I went to my parents grave and played the little keyboard and sang. It was a song called "Counting Down the Moments." It was about my mom sitting on a plane coming home from a tour counting down the moments until she could see her family again. Ironic I guess.

I go back to school in a week. I really hate school most times because the school I go to goes from 1-12 grade and is the same school my dad taught at. As soon as I got into first grade, since all of the teachers had known my dad, the first thing my teachers say to me is, "You're Luke's son, aren't you?" It not only gets me labeled as a teachers's pet, but as a loser orphan, too. It sucks. It also reminds me that in two years, my dad's replacement will be teaching me advanced algebra.

I am on the swim team, too, as an honorary thing to my dad. They have a different teacher coaching it now, of course. Everyone who had my dad says that he was way better than the current coach, though. They say that they can see how I'm his son considering the times I make and the practice hours I put in. I was in the water learning to swim before I could walk. It makes me even prouder to have been his son than I already was. If my siblings ever come back, I hope they join the swim team with me. They'd be in the seventh grade this year. I hope I see them really soon.

Author's note

Yay! We have now meet all the siblings! Time to get on with this story!

Butterflies and happy rainbows to all!

- Swimmydolphin28


	5. Chapter 4

Ace's POV

January 1

I haven't been this excited in nine years and 10 days, Dylan's sixth birthday and the night before the play. I am getting on a plane heading for Hollywood with my adoptive parents, John and Isabella Pojoel (Po-gel). When the adopted me they wanted to change my last name, but I had told the social worker when I was first put into the system that if I was ever adopted then I never wanted to change my name. I wanted it to stay Jackson incase I ever had the chance to find my brothers so that they could identify me a bit more easily.

The only thing is my new brothers and sister. When John and Isabella adopted me, they adopted three boys and a girl, too. They had originally only wanted the three strong, healthy, 12,13, and 14 year old boys. One of the boys they had wanted had had a twin and they refused to be separated, so the Pojoels adopted her, too. I was their 10 year old, mute little girl pity adoption case. Now, three years later, Alex and Amy are 15, Griff is 16, Ricky is 17, and I am 13. There are so over protective of their mute little sister that they could be my actual siblings, but that is the problem. They're not my siblings. Aidan and Dylan are.

"Hey baby sis, do you want me to put that up there for you?" asked Griff sweetly. He has always been the really sweet, patient one with me. Alex and Amy, being the closest to me in age, are easily annoyed by me, but when push comes to shove, if you bother their little sister, your dead meat. I get so mad at them when they fight. They don't realize how lucky they are not to be separated. Then there is Ricky. He is the oldest and the most protective of me. Last year, I was doing a school project with a guy in my grade, and when he came to my house looking for me, Ricky lifted him up by his shirt ready to beat him up on my word. Quickly, I showed him the assignment syllabus and he understood that it was a project and, with one last glare, left us alone to work. That is pretty much my family situation all of the time.

I nodded to Griff to put my suitcase in the overhead things. I could have easily done it myself, but he likes to be needed, so I let him.

"Aria!" Isabella called out. She had always thought that Aria was a pretty name so my adoptive family never called me by any nicknames. It was always just Aria.

I gave the gesture I use for "What?" to her, wondering what was so important that she had to loudly call my name out so loudly in a plane that had maybe four people besides my family on it.

"Sweet heart, would you like me to tell the flight attendants up front about how you can't speak now or when they come by?" she said in her pity voice that she used when she talked about how I was mute by choice. I gave her my " I don't care" look and she understood and went back to putting our stuff into overhead apartments.

We always got early boarding when we flew because of my muteness, so the only other person on board is some guy who keeps giving us a funny look. He is sitting in the very back row, which is two rows behind us, and in the opposite isle. It is the weirdest thing. He keeps looking at me like he is trying to figure out my life story by looking at me.

Suddenly, the boy's eyes got really wide. By now the plane was fully loaded and the flight attendants were telling everybody to take their seats. I took one last look at the boy. He was still looking at me, but this time, the look made me want to hug him. It looked exactly like the way my dad used to look at me when I sang. It was a look of content, pleasure, love, and proudness. It made me want to cry tears of joy.

I had missed seeing anyone give me that look so much over the last nine years, that it made me give a small smile back. I finally stopped looking at him and took my seat. I reached down and grabbed a book that I had been reading. It was a sci-fi book about greek mythology. My whole family had loved that kind of stuff.

The plane finally took off. Thank God I am now one step closer to being home. I am even more excited because the school I'm going to was the school my dad worked at. Even though he taught the high school and I'll be in middle school, it is still the same school. I bet Dylan goes there. I bet Michael goes there, too. His little brother, Ryan, and I had always been close sine Michael and Dylan and Aidan and Ryan had been close. Ryan was my best friend outside of my family when I lived here all these years ago. Truth be told, I'd always had a little crush on him. We'll both be in the seventh grade this year, so I really hope he goes to the same school.

The first time I hear my voice again I want to be with at least one of my real brothers at my parents grave singing one of my mom's songs. I want to honor my mom and dad. I will work hard and accelerate at my school work and swimming for my dad. For my mom, I will continue playing guitar. I started learning when I was three and even after my parents death I kept at it. I play acoustic and bass.

My brothers, Michael, Ryan, and I were going to start a band. Aidan was going to play drums, Dylan was going to play piano, Michael was going to play cello and violin, and, even though he was also learning a bit a cello and violin, Ryan was going to play electric guitar because he had always thought that it was the coolest instrument. I was going to be the bassist and lead singer. I have gotten really good at both acoustic and bass guitar. I hope everyone else had kept playing.

I also still swim. It is a way to be close to my dad again. He had always loved how I could kick before I could walk. When I was two I went snorkeling off of the coast of California with my family and I started to hum and after a few minutes an actual baby blue whale and her family came up to me and started to sing the same thing I was humming in their own little whale way. It was almost like they were trying to talk to me. The weirdest thing was, I could almost understand it. It was like a feeling washed over me with their words. They said something along the lines of,

" Hello, little sea child. Your great-grandfather wishes for us to tell you that whenever you may need the feeling of love, to just swim and then I'll feel better."

When I told my family, my dad was the only one believed me. He said that the ocean was full of secrets and all I needed to do was unlock them. I'd always loved the ocean, but after that, it was like a second home. The only problem was that, since I lived in Louisiana, the ocean was never close. I haven't been in the ocean since that day, but I never forgot the whales and what they told me. If I needed to feel loved, all I had to do was swim. So that's what I did. I swam. I still do. It does make me feel loved again because it reminds me of all of the happy times I had with my made me peek over my shoulder for what I promised myself would be the last time.

He was now looking at a sports magazine that the flight attendant had just given to him. His eyes started to get watery as he quickly closed the magazine. Then I saw the cover. It was a picture of my family. My real family. Before my dad had been a high school teacher and swim coach, he had been an Olympic swimmer. One of the best at that. The magazine did an article on him and his family to commemorate the nine year anniversary of his passing.

I when I noticed he was about to throw the magazine away, I quickly stood up and walked back there. When he noticed me, he quickly looked up at me with my eyes. No joke, his eyes look exactly like mine. At first it startled me, but I regained composure and held out my hand expectantly. He looked up at me and then back down at the magazine, understanding what I wanted. He took one last glance at the photo of my family that was taken a week before the accident, then he handed it to me.

I gave him my "thank you" smile and say back down next to Amy. She glanced over at me and gave me a questioning look. I showed her the picture of my family gesturing at the part that said "Anniversary of the Death of Famous Olympic Swimmer, Luke Jackson." She obviously thought that the word swimmer had just caught my eye and I wanted to read it, as she then went back to her phone with any further questioning.

As I read the part of the article saying that, "As far as we know here at Sports Authority Magazine, Luke and Amia's children are still separated," I almost cried. I decided to ask the flight attendants if I could keep the magazine. They had been told that I couldn't speak, so when I did charades signaling that I wanted to keep the magazine, they understood and said yes. I quickly shoved it into my bag and went back to thinking about going home.

It is almost time for the plane to land and then there will only be four days before school starts. I think that maybe I'll go back to the ocean soon. I know the boys will want to go, so I'll just use that to my advantage. I hope I see the whales. There is one place that I have to go first though. My old house. Even if all I do is drive by it. I have to see it. The fasten seat belt sign just came on. Fifteen more minutes, and then I'll officially be home.

My siblings, my adoptive ones, weren't as happy as I was about the move. They would be leaving behind friends and their sports teams and popularity and all of that. No one ever wanted to be friends with the mute girl. The people on my swim team as some miracle mute child who was somehow a great swimmer. I couldn't have been happier to leave them. Besides, people with no friends, weren't popular. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. I was having a mini self party while Alex, Amy, Griff, and Ricky were throwing pity parties.

Time skip

One more day. That is it. Then I can go to school and see familiar faces and places. I am nervous and excited for school. My dad was always big on grades and learning because aplenty, both my grandma and great grandma were the same way according to him. He taught me how to read when I was two and a half years old. Of course, thanks to my mom, I'd been reading sheet music since I turned two and talking and singing even before that. Because of him, when I go to school tomorrow, I will be taking seventh grade french, eighth grade social studies, ninth grade English and science, and tenth grade math.

I will also be allowed to play in the high school jazz band because I already know how to play bass guitar and I am taking more high school than middle school courses. I am going to be the nerdy, mute girl again. The only good part of that is, people will underestimate my strength when they try to bully me. Most people are surprised how much muscle you build with six and a half years a year-round swimming. I love it when they do that because then, they are humiliated by the fact that they got beaten up by not just a girl, a nerdy, mute girl. I find it quite awesome.

My family and I have already gone to the beach. Although I didn't see them, I thought that I could almost here the whales singing in the distance. The best part is that we drove by my old house already because of my new favorite thing about this move. We live next door to our old house. NEXT DOOR! I can see into my old room from my new room even. It is the exact same. Posters everywhere, huge nets of stuffed animals, a huge bed with a dolphin bedspread, and paintings and drawings of whales and dolphins everywhere.

I am now one hundred percent sure that Dylan still lives there. I was tempted to go knock on the door, but I decided not to. I wanted to see and observe him from a distance first. I knew he wouldn't recognize me now, with my red streaks and the fact that I stopped talking. I wanted to see if, within the next year Aidan showed up or Dylan recognized me. I also decided not to tell anyone in my new family that I used to live here and that I wouldn't reveal my identity to anyone I used to know for a while. I will just observe from a distance for a while and see how everyone has changed.

The thing is, the mysterious plane boy is here, too. I'd almost forgot about the teen house down the street. It is where boys who used to be in the custody of the state, in other words orphanages and foster homes, become "foster brothers." It is sort of like an orphan frat house. The mysterious plane boy is staying there. The weirdest thing is, I saw him taking a run down the street, he stopped in front of my old house and smiled like he was reminiscing old memories.

He also plays the drums. I was walking to the beach with Alex, Amy, Griff, and Ricky, which is three blocks away, and when we passed the teen house sun room, I saw him playing. I could kind of hear him, too, and he is really good. Aidan played the drums, too. The boy's initials are also the same as Aidan's; ACJ. I saw them monogrammed on his bag at the baggage claim after the flight. All the boys at the teen house go to my new school, so that means I'll be seeing more of this ACJ guy. That is, if he is in any of my advanced courses.

I did decide that I will join the school year-round swim team, though. I want to go see my parents grave, but I decided to wait to do that for a while, too. I am not going to talk yet, either. I'm going to keep on acting like I have been for the past nine years. But, one of these days, I am going to sing again. I will be with my real family again. I will be the old me again and I'm going to love it. Until then, I'll keep pretending and waiting for the perfect moment to run into my brothers' arms and be truly loved by my true family again.

Author's note

Ok that was A.C.'s move. Sorry I have been a little MIA lately. I've been having some family stuff going on so I made this chapter extra long. That way you people can get like a super update so that your reading needs are satisfied.

- Swimmydolphin28


	6. Chapter 5

Aidan's POV

Plane ride time. Whoop dee doo. Shit. Who am kidding? I'm bored as hell. My social worker got me on a direct flight, but sadly it wasn't a nonstop. We had to stop in New Orleans, Louisiana. Because I was technically a minor traveling alone, I had to sit at the very front or the very back of the plane so that the flight attendants could keep an eye on me. Those under-clothed chicks won't let me do anything. They literally told me to sit down and shut up. Thankfully, during my time in New York, I gathered enough money from doing various summer jobs that as soon as I get to California I can buy my own phone. The bad part, on the other hand, is that I don't have it yet. So I have nothing to do for now.

We just stopped in New Orleans and we, thankfully, got different flight attendants who are a lot nicer to me. When they finally started letting other passenger board the plane, the flight attendants had to go to the front of the plane. So I, being a thirteen year old boy, stood up in my seat so that I could see all the people boarding the plane for California. That when I saw her. Her family was with her. The sight of her startled me

"Aria!" The woman said. Ace's first name. Her first name is Aria. The girl, hopefully the right Aria, turned her head towards the woman and gave a gesture that clearly meant, "What?"

"Sweet heart, would you like me to tell the flight attendants up front about how you can't speak now or when they come by?" She asked with what sounded like pity in her voice. Damn it. My sister had the most beautiful voice I have ever heard, there is no way she'd stop speaking. She gave another gesture obviously meaning, " I don't care."

I am excited to be going to California anyway. I found out that I would be staying in the teen house. It is pretty much like a frat house for middle and high schoolers. All boys and run by college students. The best part is that it is right down the street from our old house. That means that if I want to, I can see Dylan, Michael, and Ryan whenever I want. The problem is, I'm not sure I want to quite yet.

Of course I miss my brother and sister and all of my friends, but I haven't seen them in nine years. They have all changed, for better or worse, and I don't know how. I mean, I have gotten angrier and more athletic. When I don't where baggy shirts to cover them, I have some legit muscles. I cover them so that I look like the perfect target for bullies, then I can give them a taste of their own medicine.

Suddenly I heard a voice behind me, "Would you like a sports magazine, Aidan?" It was one of the flight attendants and since I had absolutely nothing to do, I nodded yes.

"Thank you." I said. She handed the sports magazine to me and as soon as I saw the cover, my eyes started to water. It was my family. They were celebrating my father, who had been an Olympic swimmer before retiring to teaching and coaching high schoolers. I quickly glanced over the article, before abruptly closing and taking a deep breath to clam down.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps walking towards me. I looked up and into my eyes. I'm not kidding. The girl from earlier, who reminded me of my sister, was looking at me with my eyes. Now that she was closer, I saw that she had red streaks in her hair. At first I think she noticed the eye thing, too, because she look pretty surprised. She quickly composed herself and held out her hand expectantly. I remembered the magazine and, after looking at my family one more time, I gave the magazine to her. She smiled gratefully and walked away.

I could help but wonder why she wanted it. Maybe she was a swimmer, or something, but the eyes made me doubt it. Could that girl really be Aria? No. I erased the thought from my mind. She wouldn't have stopped speaking or died her hair. It can't be her. It can't.

Suddenly I hear the little ding telling me the seatbelt sign was on. I buckled up and looked down over my city. It's time to go home.

TIME SKIP

One more day until school. One. More. Day. Thanks to my dad, I'd always been a good student. I mean, I think I was doing third grade math by the time I was three. I will be taking seventh grade french, eighth grade science, ninth grade math and English, and tenth grade social studies. I've always loved history and writing, but my brother was best at math and learning languages. My sister on the other hand, was a genius. She was pretty good at language and social studies, really good at writing (sadly, better than me most of the time), always excelled at math, and has wanted to be a scientist her whole life. Ace was good at everything it seemed. She was a great musician, swimmer, and student.

I'm sure you're wondering how I know all of what my siblings were good at, but the answer is simple; my family. My dad had us coming to his classes as soon as we could be quite and learn. All of the teachers there had loved us, and pretty soon, we were going to classes like other students. My dad made sure our first priority was math, but after that it was up to us what classes we wanted to go to.

My brother stuck to my dad like glue most of the time, but after a few language classes he went back and forth from math to a language all day, everyday. Last I saw, he was almost fluent in French and Spanish and was working on Germain. I, on the other hand, fell in love with history. I loved how learning how people kept fixing problems and about how history was in everything. My sister was a different story.

She tried a bit of everything. She would go from math with my dad, to french with my brother, to social studies with me, and then she would go to English class. She would sit and practice her letters while thing of these crazy adventure stories so that one day she'd be able to write them all down. About a year before the accident, she was finally able to read and write well enough to write one of her stories. She sat at her little desk for hours, slowly typing a story people who had super powers and went around saving people. Our parents were so proud of her when she finished in time to submit it to a writing contest under the name "Rainbow Dolphins." Months later, she told the English teacher about it and, after rereading it again, gave her an honorable mention award in front of the whole high school, calling her a three year old prodigy. It wasn't really that good, but the fact that she could do anything like that at all was pretty amazing.

But one look in the marine biology class room, and she was hooked. She started learning about all the types of coral and fell in love with marine mammals. She started learning to swim, much to my dad's delight, so that she could one day she could study the ocean up close. She was amazing. I loved Ace so much. I still do. It's the thing about twins, we may argue, but we will always have a connection like no other. She never left my bedside through my sickness all those years ago. I try not to think about that time anymore. It was hard.

Well, anyway, I am pretty sure that Dylan still lives in our old house. I was taking a run a my first morning here and, even though my room, like Ace's, was upstairs, I could see the origami designs we made every Christmas still hanging in my window. No has touched them since I left it looks like. I considered taking the spare key from under the planter and walking in, but I decided against it and kept running. I needed to know more about him first.

I also noticed that the plane girl was here. I saw her looking through her window, which happens to look into my sister's old room, at me with a curious look when I stopped in front of my old house. I also saw her pass the boy's home on the way to the beach (she had a beach towel and was wearing a bathing suit. I am not a stalker) and when she heard me play my drums (a welcome gift from the other boys) she stopped at smiled at me. The. Exact. Same. Way. My. Sister. Did. It was sweet, but a bit weird.

Anyway, better get ready for school. (Fuck!)

AN

Ok picture me on my knees

I AM SO SORRY I HAVE NOT UPDATED LATELY! PLEASE FORGIVE ME!

I feel like a hypocrite because I promised myself I wouldn't be one of my those authors who says they'll update on a schedule and then never updates, but I am now one of them. = (. Anyway I do I have a legit excuse. My dad has been in and out of the hospital and then exams came around and I was super stressed, but I felt bad and I had an idea, so here is my update. I think I am going to skip a chapter from Dylan's point of view because the ideas for that chapter just haven't come to me yet, so here is what I might do; because I am a girl (if you haven't figured that out yet), most of my ideas come to me from Ace's POV so I think that until I get the ideas flowing for the boys' POV again, that most or all of this story will come from Ace. Also some people have PMed me about how is this related to Percy Jackson other than the heritage stuff and to you I have one answer; PATIENCE! Thank you and goodnight.(or good day or good morning or whatever works)


	7. Chapter 6

It's been a week. I have been at this school for a week. The candy my brothers and I hid in the cafeteria was still there(though I chose not to eat it after 9 years) and it all looks the same. But it isn't. My dad isn't here, none of the teachers know who I really am, and I actually have homework(not that it takes me that long, but it is still bothersome).

I haven't seen Dylan yet. I haven't seen Ryan or Michael either. I wonder when I will see them. I know they're here and it feels like hell to know that and not at least see them. Even if I don't talk to them. According to my files I have, and I quote an, "extreme anxiety disorder" that "prevents" me from speaking. FALSE LOSERS! It doesn't scare me, it depresses me. I loved to sing with my family, but singing without them, hurts and if I don't talk, I don't sing, and if I don't sing, I don't hurt. Very simple.

I am in social studies right now. Aidan was always better than I was at history, but I'm not bad at it. The problem is if I'm not interested, I have less motivation to excel at it. The mysterious plane boy is in my french and English classes. I find it a bit weird that he is in a bunch of advanced courses, too, but hey, who am I to judge.

RRRIIINNGGGG

The bell shakes me out of my thoughts as I move on to my ninth grade science class. It is by far my favorite class. We are studying marine biology this semester. It's like they knew I was coming, considering that I want to be a marine biologist. That is when he walks in. It's like a million memories and emotions wash over me at once and I can describe them all in one simple name. Dylan.

He walked in just as the bell was ringing, a little bit later than usual considering I'd never noticed him before. Knowing myself, I was probably too focused on the lesson. I almost can't control myself. If this happens every time I see him from now on, I won't last another week.

Apparently Dylan and Alex have been getting to know each other, considering I am just now remembering that John and Isabella are both leaving town for business and Alex said one of his new friends lives next door and volunteered to help keep an eye on things by having us stay over there. Oh my God. I get to stay at my old house all weekend. Immediately, I start making a list. I was only four when I left and let's just say the four year old me didn't have the best memory.

The first things I think of are my iPod and my special shampoo. I'm sure you're probably wondering, "what the hell can be so damn special about shampoo?" Ok I'll tell you.

When I was little and just starting to like science, my mom taught me a secret shampoo-hair die formula. It is a special hair die that only comes out with the special shampoo. I used the special red hair die to make the red streaks in my hair, so the only way to get them out, is the special shampoo. I think it is time to let the pain that those steaks simple go away. I'm here, I saw my big brother, and my life is starting to be like it was.

RRRIIINNGGGG!

Finally the end of the school day on a Friday. Time to go home to my real home. I am so excited. The minute I walk through the door of my current home to get my stuff, I am bombarded by rules for the weekend

No leaving Dylan's house

No bothering Dylan or his family

I surprises a giggle on that one. If we can't bother Dylan's family, does that mean none of my adoptive siblings can bother me? I wish

I run upstairs to my room after John and Isabella leave for the airport to get my stuff and my list, which has grown two more pages, including a few of my mom and dad's things and some of my old jewelry and stuff like that. My shampoo (which is probably in my mom's drawer in my parent's bathroom) and my iPod (which is undoubtedly still under my dolphin pillow pet, which I am also getting) are still my main priorities, though.

Suddenly a though occurs to me; if no one has touched my stuff, then why would I think Dylan would let someone, who he thinks is a stranger, take it? The answer is, he wouldn't. I'll have to be discrete and take only stuff in boxes and drawers or under things, so he won't notice. That means that I need to take about half of the things on my list off before I go over. I quickly sit down at my desk and get to work revising, five minutes later I am walking out the door with all my stuffed packed and a one page list of things to get. Time to go home.

When we get to the door we discover that the door is locked and, after a quick phone call to Dylan, that he won't be back for another hour because he is tutoring a middle schooler. What? Why doesn't he just tell them about the spare key under the planter? Ricky, Griff, Amy, and Alex started to walk back to our house after hearing that, so as soon as their backs were turned, I lifted up the planter and there was the key. I quickly unlocked the door and opened it wide, making enough noise so that the others could hear. The look on their faces is priceless.

"How did you do that? The door was locked!" Any exclaimed. I smiled holding the key up for them to see.

"Where'd you get that?" Ricky asked as kick put the key back under the planter, using sign language to tell them that people are too predictable. Alex laughed as he texted Dylan to tell him what happened, reading the response out loud when it came.

"I can't believe I forgot about that and tell you little sister she is really smart." He read aloud as I smirked walking into the house.

Nothing had changed. It didn't look like half the doors had even been open since I left. We decided to watch tv in the theater in the basement until Dylan got back.

"Hey guys! Where are you?" Dylan called out. His voice made me want to cry, but I shook myself out of my head and back to earth before I lost it completely. I turned away when he walked in to the theater after he was alerted of our location by a few loud shouts from the others. When he walked in the room he looked straight at me. He turned away, quickly introducing himself to Ricky and Griff, dude-hugging Alex, and sending a flirtatious wink in Amy's direction, before turning back to me and walking towards me. When he walked over, we looked at each other until it was about to get weird before Dylan stuck out his hand.

"Dylan Jackson. I hear you think I'm predictable." He said in his usual calm way that he would comfort me with when I cried when I was little. I took a deep breath and looked over at Griff and signed what I wanted to say.

"Aria Pojoel, and anyone who keeps their spare key under a planter is predictable." I signed as Griff spoke. Dylan nodded but I think I saw disappointment in his eyes when I didn't speak, but it was gone so fast I decided it was just my mind playing tricks on me.

Just then, Ryan and Michael walked in with popcorn and a bunch of movies we used to watch as kids. My thought was, "damn, Ryan got even cuter!" My second thought was, "sweet mother shitter! What are they doing here. They walked in casually as they passed Ryan said the thing that made me almost fall to the ground.

"Sup Ace?" Holy shit. I did a double take at the same time signing a quick "What did you jut call me?!" as Griff translated and Ryan turned at looked at me again as Dylan and Michael practically jumped to attention.

"S s sorry." Ryan stuttered as he looked over me again, " it's just, you state the spitting image of a girl I used to know." I nodded still taken aback a bit as I walked back to my seat, pulling the hood of the huge hoodie I was wearing over my head.

The rest of the night went by quickly and son I was alone on the third floor in a guest bedroom waiting for everyone to go to sleep so I could find my stuff. I really want my stuff. One thing about me is that I have absolutely no patience. None. As in zip zero nada. There isn't an ounce of patience in my body. So after two hours of waiting, I decide to go for it.

I quickly ran as fast as I quietly could down the stairs towards my room until I heard talking from Dylan's room.

"It has to be her!" I heard Ryan say quietly.

"No way! She would have told me by now!" Dylan argued.

" Plus, that kid can't talk, Ace was always singing!" Michael pitched in.

" I'm sorry but the facts that her name is Aria, she has the exact same facial structure, and eyes as Ace and that Alex said she was planning to be on the swim team and is practically a bass guitar prodigy are way too many facts on top of each other to be a coincidence. Plus they said that the are all adopted and had been in the foster system in Louisiana. The only difference is the can't talk thing and red hair. She is even in advanced courses. Did it occur to you that she may have just been to upset to hear the voice that she was so happy using with us and your family? Or that there are nine streaks in her hair? The same number of years you've been separated! And after nine years that maybe she a bit scared to see you?" Ryan practically ranted to Dylan. The silence was disturbing after that.

"Let's just go to sleep and investigate more in the morning." Dylan dived in defeat. Yikes! I better go. Silently thanking the gods that my room was next door to Dylan's i scurried in to it and closed the door behind me. I quickly got to work grabbing some of my stuff. I ran over to my bed, reached under the pillow pet, and there was my iPod, in the exact place I left it. Crossing that off I rushed over to my jewelry box and grabbed my favorite charm bracelet before closing and locking it again.

After ransacking my room for jewelry, books, my writing journal; and a few other trinkets, I started to head towards my parents' old room, making sure to close my door as quietly as I could. As soon as I reached their room I was flooded with memories of my old life. From pillow fights to my last night here that my brothers and I spent curled up together on my parents bed crying all night, I remember it all. After that I couldn't hold those pesky tears out any longer and put my bag of stuff from my room down and curled up on the bed like my last night here and cried.

After a few hours I looked at the clock and noticed that I only had about twenty minutes before my adoptive siblings' jet lag kicked in. It wasn't affecting me as much because I tried to stay on pacific time as much as I could in Louisiana. I calmed myself down and started towards the bathroom. I grabbed the shampoo bottle so that the next time I showered I could take the red out. I also couldn't help myself from grabbing a family photo from the night stand while I was at it before going back to the room I was staying in for the night and hiding the bag in my suitcase before falling asleep.

"Aria! Get up!" Amy was shaking me. What the fuck! I signed her to go away because it is a Saturday. "It might be Saturday, but it is also 2:00 pm on a Saturday, so it's time to get up." I rolled my eyes and sat up, shooing her out of my room as I went.

I got dressed and stumbled downstairs to get some food. When I got to the kitchen I got a bunch of weird looks from everyone else. I signed a "what?" To them, genuinely confused.

"How did you find the kitchen so easily?" Alex finally asked while Ryan not so subtlety nudged Dylan giving him one of his famous "told ya so" looks. I pointed to my ears and signed that I'd followed to noise, when I truth, I'd never forgotten.

The rest of the weekend was fairly uneventful, until John and Isabella called late Sunday night, asking Dylan if it was okay if we stayed for an other week because something had gone wrong where ever they were and they'd be there for at least another week. Nothing really happened until Thursday night.

I hadn't played my base in such a long time that I'd gone to Pojoel house and gotten it after school. I was practicing in my room when Dylan walked in.

"Damn, they weren't kidding when they said you were good." He said with a sad smile on his face.

"It relaxes me." I signed back, knowing he'd learned enough to get the gist of what it meant.

"I had a sister once you know." He said quietly. I looked up, attempting to appear calm. " She was younger than me. She had a twin, my little brother. She was a lot like you." He said turning to leave. That was my last straw. I put the base up and, since we'd already eaten and done our homework, got clothes out for the morning. One of the perks of having a huge house, is that even the guest rooms have their own bathrooms. I hadn't used the special shampoo to get the red out yet, and tomorrow morning before school, I was going to.

5:00 am, an hour before I usually get up for school, I hopped in the shower and after a few rinses with the shampoo there was no more red. I quickly conditioned and got out and got dressed. I'm already the new, mute, girl, so the less I stick out, the better. I normally wear jeans, at t-shirt, and an over sized hoodie to school, so today was no different. When I finished getting dressed, I went back into the bathroom and took the towel off my head. After a quick blow dry, I took a deep breath and looked at myself in the mirror. There it was. My light brown hair, falling only about an inch or two past my shoulders. I looked like me again. I threw in in a ponytail so that I didn't draw attention to my self more than I already would be.

6:15 I was in the kitchen eating cereal when Griff and Ricky came thundering down the stairs one of them, probably Ricky, pulled my hood down to annoy me before they both turned around and did a double take on my hair.

"Woah" they said in unison without taking their eyes off my hair.

"You dyed your hair?" Ricky asked. I smiled shaking my head.

"No" I signed back," I took the red out. This is my natural hair color."

"Woah" they said again.

"Why'd you take it out? How'd you take it out? Why did you die it in the first place?" Ricky asked, acting like a six year old as Griff got him and Ricky both some cereal.

"I took it out because I felt like I should, the hair dye I used was a special chemical formula that only a certain shampoo can take out, so when I decided to use the special shampoo it just came out, and I dyed it because my mom and I made it together before she died, so it was something to make me feel close to her." I signed back.

"Why do you feel closer to her here in Hollywood than you did in Baton Rouge?" Griff asked.

"Because I used to live here in Hollywood." I signed with a smile.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Ricky asked accusingly. I simply shrugged and nodded towards the clock telling us that it we had to go in ten minutes. Griff sighed and ran upstairs to wake everyone up.

"I'll walk to school by myself today" I signed to Ricky as picked up my back back and walked out the door.

RRRIIINNGGGG

There's the bell again, always bringing me back from my thoughts. Time for P.E., the last class of the day on a Friday. The best class of all in my opinion. Don't get me wrong, I love to learn, but everybody needs break. Who wouldn't? Albert Einstein? Plus, P.E. doesn't suck most of the time, right? Shit! That reminds me! We have to run the mile today. Stupid seventh grade P.E. I may be a good swimmer, but running? Count me out. I suck at it. Plus, Aidan was running when the first attack happened. That was so scary. I don't think I left his hospital bed, maybe ever. It was bad.

Anyway, now that I'm in my P.E. clothes, I guess it's time to run. As soon as I see the huge group, I remember the worst news of all; not only are the seventh grade girls running today, but the seventh grade boys and the entire ninth grade are also running with us. At least that means that Amy and Alex will be out there to keep me company, since they know that I hate running.

I wave to Amy as I walk up. She is busy talking to a huge group of tenth grade girls. She gives me a side ways hug and a smile when I reach the group of people. She introduces me to all of them and, judging by the sympathetic looks the girls are giving me, she been playing the "mute little sister" card again. She leads me away from her friends and over to Alex, Dylan, Michael, and Ryan.

"Hey! Woah! Aria you dyed your hair!" Ryan said when I walked over. I looked at Amy to explain, considering Griff told her the entire conversation from this morning. A few minutes later, after everyone had been filled in on my hair, our coach blew her whistle for us to start running.

The plane guy, whose name I still haven't learned, was just ahead of us for the first couple laps before we passed him. Suddenly I heard coughing from behind me. I turned around just to see the plane boy fall collapse, gasping for air. Just like Aidan did when he first got the disease it was an extremely rare case. He had asthma attacks within minutes of each other for almost a year. When he stopped having attacks for two weeks straight, he was sent home. After a month he was deemed fully healthy, but the doctors said there was always a possibility that it could come back. All the pieces suddenly fit together. That wasn't just a boy similar to my twin; that was my twin. And his attacks are back.

"Aidan!"

AN

Yay! I made a really long chapter! I just realized how small the font is compared to other fanfics so I tried to make the font a bit bigger on this one. Anyway comment and review and whatever else.


	8. AN

Ok, so I am having some legit writers' block for this story right now so I am going to take a slight break and get my thoughts(and homework) together. To give you an idea of how long I am going to be gone all I can say is that the earliest I will be able to update will probably be Mardi Gras break. For those of you who don't know what that is, google was invented in 1998, you should know how to use it by now.

That was the bad news. The good news is that I have some ideas for a few one shots between now and then, so you might get to see a few of those. Sorry about this but I didn't want you people to constantly check my story if it wasn't going to be there.


End file.
